


Fraud and Humbuggery

by nigellecter



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigellecter/pseuds/nigellecter
Summary: A movie re-write of their relationship, going forth all the years of unity and separation.Galen / Jyn. Written by nigellecter & little-lady-lecter (as usual).





	1. Chapter 1

Remote, desolate yet tranquil, as the planet Lah’mu didn’t brace the ravaged ashes and charred remains of the  _ annihilation _ from the ongoing war. Yet the ghost of himself on board the still unnamed planet destroyer mars Galen’s mind as if he had blood coated through the webs of his own fingers. As if he had the weapon in his hand. Passing through the maddening delirium as the world where he places great distances from the Galactic Empire, he’s staring into the light of his life, his radiant stardust, the pattern which those star-shaped hands trace along the stretched limbs of the stormtrooper doll. 

He loses himself further as she fiercely throws herself at him and immediately, he’s shattered away from the labyrinthine reverie that had became so entangled. The soft glow of the new winter’s morning is so ephemeral, as does his freedom away from the clutching force of the Empire - his heart grows  _ weary _ , not entirely unscathed as it grows tired of continual livid bruises. How much he had desperately hoped as he continued on with the reality, yet he’s incessantly getting slapped by reality. A harbinger of peace as each illuminating shards of kyber crystals brought him an unconditional promise, planted in his beautiful, yet labyrinthine mind that could drive him to both greatness and madness insanity. 

All the peaks and plateaus of unfurled landscape and lush greenery does nothing to abate the ongoing conflict colliding within the vastness of his subconscious. He just wants to hold Jyn’s hand, be soft and gentle like he is as he would bathe her with the everlasting love. Yet, the promises are meant to be  _ broken _ and his days on the planet are numbered. He isn’t entirely sure when he’ll be taken beneath the shackling grasp of Krennic’s ruthlessness. If only his mind could transcribe into words as he could spare the Erso family from each heartbreak, of their being as hostages, he’d risk it all, though hypocritically, his pride utters a devil’s whisper - a terrible thing is a terrible thing no matter what and it hadn’t taken Galen not too long to realize the grandeur and conducive, destructive power which could disintegrate the whole universe with a few press and flick of the buttons and levers.    

Things tended to come back in floods and in droves all at once and he could feel an onslaught of migraine bombard his senses. Reality warp, his unperturbed pensive rattles as the torment and struggle of his past lasts - he might be still weighed down by his innate fear; losing the grasp with his beloved family as he drenched himself with the light from his daughter and stood tall like a dazzling radiance that would embody their new beginning over the recurrent nightmare. Finding his roughened fingertips gravitate towards the child’s rosy peach cheeks and letting them entangle into her long locks, his depthless hazel crinkles with a hint of a smile as rich, bone-warming fragrance of broth fills their meager, utilitarian chamber. “Whatever I do, I do it for you, my stardust,” if he could armor up with brevity of his own, he’ll clear himself out of the depth of his haze and delve into his studies once again. 

___

As all children do, Jyn had always experienced the tunnel-vision of childhood, the black-and-white processing that came with an underdeveloped mind. She knew that Papa was _ good _ because he was her Papa, just as she knew Mother was the same. It would not be long until Jyn realized that things were often more complicated than they seemed, and thus would be introduced to the concept of gray morality at a younger age than most children of her standing. Whether or not it was fair, whether or not it was  _ just, _ the idea that Jyn had to be thrown to the wolves at such a young age was simply how things came to be.

As she held her Papa’s hand, Jyn would stare out into the distances of their farmland, imagining she could grasp the mountain tops in her small hands and conquer them where she stood. The yearning for adventure, for exploration, had manifested itself by the time she could walk, all the way up until her father would tell her adventure stories that she knew would only exist in her dreams. Discerning stories from reality had always been an uncommon strength of hers in her younger years, and it only ever helped her when she decided to tell them herself.

_ Stardust. _ Her nickname, echoing the fondness Galen always held close to his heart, the infallible love he had for his only daughter. When she looked at the stars, she always wondered if he really found her as good and beautiful as the stars themselves. The stars were impossible things, things that Jyn could never truly wrap her head around the existence of. But they were always beautiful, and Jyn was always quick to show her father her favorite ones.

But as she gazed up at her Papa with wide, wondering eyes, she could not help but sense that something was terribly, awfully wrong, even if she could not put it into words herself. Something  _ dark _ was coming, for even on that night, there was no moon and few stars in the sky. She wanted to ask, but did not want to see her father sad.  _ Black and white. _ Something was either wrong or it wasn’t, and whatever it was, Papa was the good guy who would overcome it and make it right.

“You do a lot of things for me,” Jyn said softly. “You farm a lot and make sure we have food just like Mother. And one day you’ll teach me how to do it too so that I can make food for myself. I’ll be as strong as you and Mother.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was so  _ effortless _ to get lost in the bleeding colors of good graces, all the cacophony of sounds that usher in the familiar darkness. It acts like a gentle  _ nourishment _ through his perturbed soul and those depthless width of Jyn’s perceivable eyes pull back the night and break the mourning. _ Soft, supple _ and  _ innocent _ , yet so much more than that as his face slightly softens at the growing sight of her. Roughened tips of his finger wraps around her starlike fingers, as he would hold any precious  _ treasure _ upon his hold. Another idly stroking the thick clump of his beard, tickling against adam’s apple still in pensieve and how they’re situated and as she becomes the emblem of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; a culmination of his better self without all of his imperfections and doubts paint such an infallible picture. He’s not an artist, but he may become just one so that he could capture that sliver of silver lining in desolate times. 

He was never a good liar - even when he had been masquerading as an Imperial officer of the Empire as he juggled to read other people’s words on death and wanting to die and think of the times when the concept of it seemed a valiant and true way out of a  _ coward’s way _ . Behold the weight of the courage and once he would be consumed by it, then his occupied labyrinthine of mind cleared up like a vast cerulean sea. All the dark shadows, as he had been stripped off of oxygen as he had spent his life in  _ suffocation _ . Well-off, clean-shaven, thriving as an exceptional polymath and a prodigy, yet there was nothing in his world to breathe for, except his stardust.

Of course, his love for Lyra went  _ unfathomable _ , she had been the only one who could grasp both of him as an individual and as a genius. Yet Jyn had been that one person who made the air rush into his lungs, ushering in the light and keeps on sparkling in the void of darkness as she filled him with all the radiance and freshness that no life could offer.  _ Would he summon enough braveness, the hero within him as he becomes Perseus, carrying Medusa’s head like a weapon as he would utilize and turn what would be considered a condemnable death to his own creation? _ He could shut down one part at a time, as he had done it without anyone scrutinizing to push him for its completion. 

So her existence had been his  _ sustenance _ , as he considers the dualistic nature of the stars - he’s aware of the every mapped coordinate like the back of his hand and point out with his eyes closed, yet so many parts remain unknown, even to him. “And one of those things always has been making your favorite drink in the entire galaxy,” The clear, sap green liquid clarifies even more as he gazes into his own reflection, pouring as much syrup as the brewed tea itself. “You are already the strongest I have ever gotten to know,” the imperceptive curl of his lip twitches with sparkle, matching the milky way in the distant galaxy. “Do you remember the time you used to drink gallons of the stuff and roam around like an explorer.” That alone had been his paradise filled with nostalgia as his pessimistic shell peeled back. 

_Would the world reverse?_ _Would she grow more braver and stronger than him with bruised up heart and his stress-soaked migraines that would encumber him for hours, even days?_ He inhabits galaxies and his hazel breeds the kind passion that was hidden beneath all the deepest waters of the ocean, yet how eased his posture relaxes upon his daughter’s presence. The accelerant cure to his aches and weariness. 

___

With outstretched hands, Jyn eagerly accepted the drink from her father with a smile, thanking him graciously before taking a careful sip. It was hot, just as she liked it, and she would give it a moment to cool before gulping it down as she often did. With a smile, she looked up at her father and nodded, giggling as she did when she recalled her sugar-fueled trecks into the forest, determined to explore every plant and every tree her eyes could behold. Her mother always scolded him for giving her too much sugar, but she was always quick to fall asleep during her long days of walking and running about.   
  
“Thank you Papa. And yeah, I remember. I found a deer in the woods, once. I named him Druian. You told me he comes back every year. I want to see a baby dear one day, Papa. Maybe we can go looking for one.”   
  
She was not in the mood to go exploring now, though. She felt tired, and sensed something was wrong with her father, even if she could not quite name it. He was tense, on-edge. Something was on his mind. Adults often mistook children for being ignorant little things, but Jyn always knew, sometimes even before her mother, when something was upsetting her father.   
  
“is everything okay, Papa?” she asked quietly. She peered up at him, wishing she understood why he got so sad sometimes, so worried out of nowhere. She knew the world was changing. She only wished she knew what it all meant.   
  
But for the time being, she could only be there for him as he always was for her. It was her duty. Even at her young age, she had decided she would always be his protector.   
  
“If I’m stardust, maybe you’re the moon. Or the…the stars that make the dust. And Mama is the sun and the galaxies. We’re from space, isn’t that right? We’re a space family.” This cheered Jyn up as she imagined her home being so far above the earth with countless galaxies and universes to explore. She’d be happy there, she thought to herself. Papa would be too.


End file.
